On a Snowy Evening
by Yukitarina
Summary: A single flap of a butterfly can cause a storm in certain place. No matter how small the difference you create, it would affect the whole things. And the most important is, your future. COMPLETE. After all, love is thawing the winter, wintering the thaw.
1. One

A/N: Hey there … ^^ It's been a long time, I'm so sorry for not updating too long T.T. And I'm so sorry for the long hiatus of Bonne Nuit, it's not done, yet I'm here to give you a story that has a thread with it. But for you who haven't read it can be independence as well ^^. And with this I want to say thanks to Kamiya-Sensei, her story "Snow" really impressed me deeply even until this moment. Thank you so much for everything :).

Disclaimer: I don't own SS characters

Listening to: SENS and the scores from Orange Days.

Warning: Romance (straight XD). Bits grammatical errors.

_**Scraps from "Bonne Nuit":**__ When Degel met Camus. He was sent by Sasha to twentieth century to celebrate Camus's birthday with the other Gold Saints. At last he was sent back to eighteenth century by Poseidon's assistance (spoiler here T.T)._

**One**

All saints were now powerless. It was obvious. Athena had sealed their skills because they no longer needed it. It was incontestable. Holy war was over and she didn't want to take a risk Deathmask would launch Sekishi Me Ha only for fun, or Aphrodite ruined Kido's mansion garden only because he was angry with his fellows.

What everybody didn't know was Athena's state when she removed the Gemini saint's power. The _older_ Gemini saint's power.

The sealing was done in Kido's mansion. When Saga's turn occurred, instead of focusing on her cosmos she thought about the old days when Saga was dying in her embrace. Also when he called her name heartrendingly as she cut her throat with the golden dagger. She couldn't deny that the Gemini saint had left too many reminiscences in her heart. Just the same with the Virgo saint.

At that time neither Saori nor Saga acknowledged the impact, even after he entered his room to test whether he had really lost his Another Dimension. As usual, when he was about to launch the attack, he imagined the details of the place which would be his victim's destination point. He put a book on his bed, then imagining the Pope Hall. Afterwards he murmured, "Another dimension."

The book didn't move even an inch.

Saga smiled, realizing his power indeed had been sealed. He stopped and exited his room to join his fellows eating strawberry-filled bread made by Aldebaran.

He never knew the book vanished an hour later, and popped on Shion's throne.

When Shion found it, he did nothing except keeping it in his library. If one of his subordinates or fellows left it in his temple, they would surely take it back someday.

And Saga didn't mind the book was lost. After all it was only Greek dictionary and he didn't really fond of it. He never tried to look for it, and never thought that the book was lost because of his Another dimension.

The book travelled from Japan to Greece only because he mentioned Another Dimension _once_, and he didn't know it.

What if he mentioned that 'spell' _more_ than once? What if he mentioned it twice? Or ten times? Or …

… more than fifty times?

-000-

_**Siberia, in the afternoon …**_

When the cold wind of Siberia blustered the curtains and immediately froze the hot chocolate which had been heated up for at least five times that day, Milo growled. He approached the window, cursing about it never shut perfectly no matter what he had done.

"Camus, there's a problem with your window," he called. "Should I get some nails or something?"

Camus exited the kitchen and stared at the window from afar. He sighed, then walked towards it and checked its frame. He looked tired, Milo could tell. Those deep blue eyes only slightly wider than a slit, filled with a bit hollowness.

"You're alright?" asked Milo. "You look weary."

"Only a bit sleepy," Camus answered without turning his attention from the window.

"A bit?" Milo raised his eyebrows. Camus had traveled around the world for five days and barely rested or slept. Well … maybe not exactly around the world—he only visited Greece and Japan—but still it was too much. He had to attend a reunion in Sanctuary, in Graud Foundation, in Sanctuary again, in Graud Foundation again, and now when he returned to his beloved hut, he had to deal with an irritating visitor who made protest about his window.

Milo was tired himself, but he didn't really bother because he had slept too tight inside the plane. There had been some times when he had opened his eyes, and he could only roll his eyes seeing his best friend still awoke and gazing at the floss-like clouds outside.

The Scorpio was about to tell Camus to take some rests when he heard something from the corner of the livingroom.

"Another dimension …," the voice murmured. "Another dimension …"

Milo shook his head. He wondered whether the speaker was too tired that he never stopped mentioning the phrase. Maybe he was counting it in order he could fall asleep, instead of counting imaginary sheep.

"Another dimension …"

"Fifty," Milo helped him to count.

"Another dimension …"

"Fifty one."

"Another dimension …"

"Fifty two. You've mentioned those words for fifty two times, Saga, now you'd better cut it out."

Saga turned his head and stared at Milo, as if he had been awaken from some trance. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Can't help it."

"You still worry about it, don't you?" asked Milo as he stepped to the couch and took a seat beside the Gemini saint. He took Camus's book—a collection of poetry—Saga has read and opened its pages absentmindedly.

Saga had insisted accompanying Milo in the flight to Siberia only to make sure the Scorpion would survive in that freezing land. Last time Milo visited Siberia he immediately got a very contagious fever, which later on infected almost the whole Sanctuary's inhabitants.

"You'd feel the same way if Poseidon told you there's still a bunch of supernatural power in your flesh," Saga said flatly.

"You don't need to believe him, Saga, case closed. Athena has sealed our power and there's no way we can do those cursed jinxes again."

Saga smiled slightly. He knew that beyond all prides Milo announced about Scarlet Needle, he couldn't help to hate it as well. The same as he despised Galaxian Explosion—to many lives had lost because of those blows.

"Poseidon shouldn't have come to the reunion," murmured Milo. "He only made matter worse."

"It was a reunion discussing about Chronos's threat anyway. Athena needed him to assist her. Though nobody of us like him I can't refute the fact that we need his help right now." The Gemini frowned his forehead. "But I was quite taken aback when he told me he sensed something inside me, arguing that I haven't lost all power."

"And he's wrong," replied Milo. "You've mentioned 'another dimension' for more than fifty times but see, nothing happened. Camus and I aren't flying to Deathmask's pantry or something."

Both Saga and Milo didn't know that Camus smiled slightly hearing the joke.

"Besides," Milo continued, "We're all powerless, why aren't you?"

"How could I know?" Saga finally stood up after couple minutes. "I think I have to leave now … I can't take the coldness anymore."

"No one asked you to come," said Milo, but his eyes were filled with gratitude.

"I have to make sure you're alright, unless you'll catch cold again and I'm the one who must deal with all responsibilities," Saga sighed as he put on his coat. "Sometimes I wish I was ten years younger …"

"If it happened, who would be our big brother then?" asked Milo.

Saga was mesmerized, as if there had been a sudden spring season inside this below hundred temperature.

"Aiolos?" answered Saga, smiled slightly.

"You and Aiolos are a team," smiled Milo. "If one of you resigned things would never be the same again."

"I'm so honoured. I have to go now," Saga stepped at the door after he clapped Milo and Camus's shoulders lightly. The cruel wind pierced the hut as Saga opened the door, and ceased after he exited and closed it again.

"You don't think he's still got his power, do you?" asked Milo. He took the poetry collection again, a bit paid an attention toward the poems right now. It was full of the verses of 18th and 19th century poets.

"No," said Camus. He had finished with the window and sat beside his best friend on his couch. He looked at his fingers, small blood spilled from his thumb. The window's sharp edge had slashed his thumb in the middle of his work.

"Your thumb?" Milo frowned as he saw the blood.

"Nothing serious, Milo," said Camus, in his usual flat tone but with a hint of impatience. Milo's concerns began to get him tired—even after fourteen years he couldn't get why the Scorpion always bestowed too much sympathy towards the one who rarely gave him any.

"Here," Milo had took a medicine box from the kitchen and gave Camus a sheet of bandage.

"I can get it myself," murmured Camus as he received the bandage reluctantly.

"You don't need to do everything by yourself," Milo sank himself on the couch. He read the poetry collection again, being unfocused, though. "You're really different with him," he suddenly said.

Camus turned at Milo.

He knew whom he meant.

It's been a long time since Degel was time-travelling from the eighteenth century to have a reunion with twentieth century Gold Saints, but the moments would never cease.

Inhaling a deep breath, Camus covered his thumb with the bandage. "We're two very different people," he murmured.

"Yeah, you are," Milo agreed. "Degel never refused someone who tried to lend a hand on him."

"You talk as if you've known him well."

"Spending six hours with him is enough to understand what kind of _human_ he is," replied Milo. "Spending fourteen years with you isn't enough to get what kind of … things you are."

"What's the point of this?" Camus started. "Are we going to quarrel only because my thumb is wounded?"

"No," Milo answered plainly. "I'm just trying to say that you don't need to do everything alone when you've got everybody around you. When there comes a moment you have to face everything all alone, you'll realize you need your friends the same as they do."

Silence.

Milo knew he probably brought too much on this, but that fridge had made him fed up. His coldness, his I-am-an-independent-glacier-who-doesn't-need-anyone, his ungratefulness.

"When Saga accompanied me to visit Siberia, I refused as well," Milo finally spoke. "But then I acknowledged he did it because he cared so much about his fellows, and at last I allowed him to."

Camus took a deep breath again, then gazed at the floor.

Maybe they were right, after all. He was a heartless iceberg who thought he would survive without anybody's assistance. But why asking for somebody else's help when he could do all things by himself?

He wanted to tell Milo about that, but then he knew it would be troublesome. So he leant on the couch and stared at the hearth without saying any word.

"They shut the road to the woods …"

Camus a bit startled, thinking that Milo babbled about any unimportant things again. But he remembered that line was taken from Rudyard Kipling's poem. Milo was murmuring the poem he read.

"Seventy years ago," Milo continued. "Weather and rain have undone it again,/ And now you would never know/ There was once a road through the woods/ Before they planted the trees."

Milo kept reading, and when he almost got to the last line, he turned his head on Camus.

Camus had closed his eyes, sleeping. And so he was able to sleep after being sleepless for heaven knows how long.

Milo smiled before he murmured the last line of the poetry. "But there is no road to the woods …," he said sadly.

_There is no road to the heart sheathed with ice. You've shut the road many years ago …_

_-000-_

_-000-_

Forty minutes had passed, and Milo started to feel hungry. He looked at Camus, still sleeping tight on the couch. He searched in the kitchen and growled when he found nothing there. He knew the canteen in this deserted landscape was about two miles away, but that was the only option left if he didn't want to get starved.

Milo wore beyond-anyone-imagination layers of coats, then exited the hut and started his steps to the meal store. "I hate this …," he'd growled for about hundred times. The stormy wind and snow blustered wildly that it often forced his feet to shift backside. Though the sun shone behind uncountable glaciers lacquering the frosty land, Milo couldn't feel even a dot of its warmth. For million times he wondered why Camus bestowed too much affection on this land, as if it happened to be his own wife or something.

He didn't remember how long he had travelled—oh well he remembered it … three hours.

And when he entered the hut, Camus wasn't there.

"Camus?" he shut the door tight and stared at every corners of the hut. "Camus, I'm home," he took the coats off, but still kept two layers of them. Then he stepped to the kitchen and poured the meals on two plates.

"Camus?" Milo called again. "Where is he …? Playing snowballs or what?" he then checked the bedrooms, the toilet, everything. No sign of any turquoise hair.

Milo frowned.

He knew he shouldn't give any big deal, but he felt something wrong here. He and Camus had been best friends for fourteen years anyway. Whenever anything bizarre or odd happened to Camus, he was always able to sense it rightaway.

Milo's eyes stared at two plates of meals he had prepared.

Trying to imagine Camus was only playing with a cute polar bear, he walked to the telephone. Dialing Kido's mansion number in Japan would cost too much, but alas. Like he cared.

Soon he heard someone picking up the phone and the noises he had known. "Hello, Kido's mansion here."

"Hey, Saga. You're arrived? By the way, is Camus there?" The distance between Siberia and Tokyo was only two hours away and he hoped Camus was in Kido's mansion right now.

"What? No," Saga answered, to Milo's disappointment. "Why you're asking me that? Isn't he in Siberia?"

"I was left the hut some hours ago, and when I returned Camus wasn't here."

Far away in Kido's mansion, Shion and Mu just came and all their fellows were marching on them, looped around the souvenirs Mu brought.

"Milo," Saga laughed slightly. "He probably was out for something, he'll be back."

"You sure?" hearing Saga's encouragement made Milo a bit calm down. This was why Saga meant a lot for all of them; a brother, an advisor, everything which his juniors were lack of.

"Of course. Now stop worrying too much, he was in his own land, nothing's going to happen with him, see."

"Everyone," in Kido's mansion, Shion raised his voice in order it can be heard between the shouts 'I want that d**mned red Jamirian scarf!' his juniors performed. "Could you tell me whose dictionary is this?" Shion lifted a Greek dictionary in the air. "I found it in my throne a year ago and waited someone to take it back, but no one came."

Which made Saga startled.

-000-


	2. Two

**Two**

_Greek dictionary …?_

Saga's juniors stared at the thick book, and a second later they shook their heads in unison. "Not mine. But that's MY scarf!" they started to fight for the scarf again.

Saga looked at the dictionary without blinking.

_A year ago …?_

It was when Athena sealed their power and when Saga checked whether his Another Dimension still worked … _by using that dictionary _…

"Saga?" Milo called from afar. "You're still there?"

Saga didn't answer.

He tried to remember the thing he had done to the dictionary. As far as he recalled, he only mentioned 'Another Dimension' once, but the dictionary didn't move even an inch.

"_There's still a little power inside you, Gemini,"_ Poseidon's voice suddenly visited his mind. _"A power which Chronos would envy. You'd better be careful."_

Saga took a seat and frowned.

A little power … could it be why the dictionary didn't vanish rightaway? Because his power wasn't as strong as before? But he still had it anyway …

To his fear, he still had his cosmos. And the dictionary traveled from Kido's mansion to Shion's throne only because he mentioned Another Dimension … _once_.

"Milo …," Saga tried to keep his voice steady. "Do you remember … how many times I mentioned 'Another Dimension' in Camus's hut?"

"Why d' you ask me that?"

"Only asking," Saga said hurriedly.

"Well … fifty two times, maybe …"

Saga wished he never asked it.

_Fifty two times …?_

"Umm … hey, I'll call you back, ok?" said Saga. If he wanted to make things right he had to do that as fast as possible.

"What? Why?"

"I'll call you back, I promise," then Saga hung up. He immediately marched at Shaka, the only one who didn't care about a worldly thing such as Jamir latest fashion. "Shaka."

Shaka opened his startling blue eyes a bit.

"Yes?"

-000-

-000-

They were inside the library, apart from the unimportant noises outside.

"You mentioned 'Another Dimension', in Camus's hut, for fifty two times?" asked Shaka. He sat on the carpet, his legs crossed as usual. Saga was in front of him, crossing his legs as well. They looked like having meditation together.

"Yes," answered Saga.

"And when you mentioned the charm, you thought about …"

"At that time I was reading classic poetry collection of eighteenth and nineteenth century poets, and at that moment … I thought about the condition in … eighteenth century."

"To make it short, you mentioned Another Dimension for fifty two times with thinking about the circumstances in eighteenth century?"

"Yes."

They looked at each other.

"And now Milo said Camus is not in his hut?"

"Yes."

Shaka smiled serenely, but his wonderful eyes shone in worry. "Saga."

"Yes?" Saga was too afraid to hear Shaka's theory that he almost closed his eyes.

"You have changed Camus's hut into _ley."_

"What is ley?" Saga knew what ley meant, but he wanted Shaka to give a different definition, at least one which was less frightening than he thought.

"A contour which has very powerful energy it can move somebody throughout space and time, or another dimension."

His definition was the same with Saga's, and Saga felt his heart dropped to his toes.

"Because your cosmos is not as powerful as before, its effect does not immediately occur. It will occur at least an hour later or so," Shaka explained. "This is why Milo was not affected, because he exited the hut before the charm produced its effect. Camus, though, kept staying at the hut; therefore he is the one who suffers the effect right now."

Saga never liked the word 'suffer'.

"But," Saga started, "If Camus's hut really becomes ley, it will travel Milo to another dimension as well if he stays there too long."

"Do not be too proud of yourself," smiled Shaka. "Your cosmos is not as powerful as before. Indeed you have changed the hut into ley, but it is not permanent. Milo will not suffer the effect."

"Then …," Saga took a deep breath. "Do you think Camus is in eighteenth century right now …?" He couldn't imagine the thing that would happen to Camus. Being alone, deserted, in the place which only existed two hundred years ago …

He knew Camus was accustomed in doing everything alone, but he wondered whether Camus could be survive in the situation he never acknowledged before.

"I do."

"We've got to get him back, Shaka," Saga insisted.

"How?" asked Shaka, raising his eyebrows. "To get him back here, we have to travel to eighteenth century first."

"I can go to the hut again and mentioned Another Dimension for fifty times again."

"The same trick will not work twice. Have you forgotten?"

Saga startled. "Meaning?"

Shaka stood up. He walked slowly towards the window, and gazed outside, looking at the cherry blossoms, ponds, and flowers which beautified the garden.

Athena was there, wandering absentmindedly, unaffected by the beauty in her ambience. Couple minutes later, she sat on the grass near magnolia trees. Her solemn eyes stared at nowhere.

"I know why you choose to discuss this problem with me, Saga," said Shaka as he gazed at Athena. "Because you think I, too, have not lost my power."

"You can bring very heavy things only with one of your hands. You can make a plane quivered when we're inside it. I begin to think that you're not merely Shaka from the River of Ganges. I bet you are still a Virgo Saint."

"And you are right," Shaka turned on Saga. "I have not lost all powers. I can still launch Ten Bu Huo Rin and seal someone's sense. But you see, Saga, I cannot do it twice.

"Once, I tested my power toward a bird. My Ten Bu Huo Rin made the bird losing its ability to chirp. When I tested it to the same other bird, with the same charm and the same technique, it did not work. Do you know why it is?"

"Because we are not as powerful as before," Saga nodded in exhaustion.

"True."

Saga stood up, and joined Shaka looking outside the window.

"Why we're not completely losing our powers?" asked Saga.

Shaka looked at Saori again. Saga imitated him.

"She is the only one who is able to answer," said Shaka.

Saga was gazing at Athena—her beautiful visage, her pretty eyes, her shining hair blown with soft wind—when Shaka grasped his shoulder firmly.

"Do you want Camus to return or not?" asked Shaka.

"What kind of question is that …?"

"I have some advice."

"What? Asking for Poseidon's assistance again?"

"No," Shaka smiled slightly. "This is better."

-000-

-000-

In the land far, far away, Camus slowly opened his eyes.

He frowned when acknowledging that he wasn't on his couch anymore. Instead, he was lying in a very soft bed covered with delicate and sweet-smelling sheet. The canopy above him was layered with brocade curtains embroidered with snow images.

"Ah … you are awake?"

Camus turned his head hearing the kind and gentle voice. Sitting beside him was a beautiful young lady with silvery-blond hair and shining grey eyes. Her eyes were so mesmerizing that Camus thought they were created to soak up and melt the one who gazed at them too long.

"Thank God," the lady smiled in relief. "I was so worried about you."

Camus tried to sit; he was helped by the lady. When the lady touched his skin, he startled.

Her hand felt familiar … when did he feel that kind of heartwarming coolness, the one which swirled cheerfully and lighted himself up instead of freezing him?

"I'm sorry …," said Camus in confusion. "But … who are you?"

"Oh, right. I'm sorry, I forgot telling you my name," she smiled as she held his shoulder. "My name is Seraphina. Seraphina of Bluegaard."

-000-


	3. Three

**Three**

Now, Camus only had three theories regarding to this circumstance. First, he was dreaming, and the dream was both amazing and weird.

Second, he was going insane.

Third, this young lady was only pretending to be Seraphina of Bluegaard to make fun on him.

"You were lying on the snow, unconsciously," said the lady. "I immediately marched on you, mostly because I thought …," she suddenly blushed.

Camus waited. "You thought?"

"I thought you were someone I know," she gazed at the granite floor to hide her blush. "Your hair colour was the same with his. But then I looked at you closely, and realized that you weren't him," she looked at Camus again. "Though I can't refute the fact that you really look like him."

_Who?_

"I was worried about you, so I brought you here," said Seraphina. "This is my dwelling."

It took at least five minutes before Camus was able to talk again.

"How …," he started. But before he had any chance to continue, some numbers of maids entered the room and bowed at Seraphina.

"Your Ladyship, your father and brother are waiting for you in the hall," the one with apricot hair said.

"Thank you, I'll be there immediately," Seraphina stood up gracefully. She smiled at Camus before leaving the room. "I have to greet my father and my brother. I'll come back soon."

Camus stared at nowhere when he was alone.

Now he got the fourth theory: something's happened while he was sleeping and he didn't have any slightest idea about that.

He got down from the bed, then stirred the windows' curtains sideways. Snow was falling outside, changing all hues into white. He focused on the people wandering in the yard. Their clothes looked so classical, the same with those worn by the young lady—though hers was far classier. At glance the circumstance outside seemed no different with his land—everything's white, everything's frozen. But Camus sensed some error which he couldn't explain.

He gazed at every inches of the room. The wall painted in light maroon with light snow-image adornment. There was a huge mirror whose frame made of wrought iron. The rests were the interior one could find in wealthy woman's bedroom: luxurious cupboard, polished stall filled with beauty cases, vast chandelier with soft golden rays. But the things interested Camus most were the bookshelves attached in the walls and alcoves. It was really extraordinary; the shelves even almost touched the ceilings.

Camus, in an amazement he rarely felt, approached one of the shelves. He gazed on every book rowed in it, then picked one which was similar with his. It was John Donne's poetry collection. He opened its pages and travelled his fingers on the surface of the high-quality paper.

In the page entitled _Valediction: Forbidding Mourning_, he found a piece of sketch which apparently used as a bookmark.

It was only when he gazed steadily at the sketch he believed that the young woman was truly Lady Seraphina of Bluegaard, the sister of Prince Unity, the daughter of the ruler of Bluegaard, … the one who later on became Poseidon's vessel …

… and the only woman who was loved by Aquarius Degel.

Camus took a seat on the bed, still with the book and the sketch in his hands.

_How come …?_ So he was in the eighteenth century right now … Was he travelling throughout space and time without his acknowledgement? Where's Milo? Did Milo get lost in eighteenth century as well?

He suddenly felt deserted._ When there comes a moment you have to face everything alone, you'll realize you need your friends the same as they do._

Milo was right, as usual …

He looked at his surroundings, hoping someone in his era would appear. Anyone—he would even be so thankful to see Deathmask's sneer, only to ensure him that he wasn't all alone.

Soon he was no longer care about how he could exist two hundred years earlier than he should. The only thing he worried now was, what if he couldn't come back? What if he was cursed to live in this century for the rest of his life …? He knew nobody here, except Shion, Dohko, and Degel.

Degel …

Shion and Dohko wouldn't recognize him as the Aquarius's reincarnation because neither of the- eighteenth-century-Shion-and-Dohko had met him. But Degel had met him, and he was sure Degel would recognize him and help him with all of his might.

He was about to stand up when Seraphina entered the room.

"Your ladyship …," said Camus, felt being caught red handed when Seraphina looked at the book and the sketch he clutched. "I'm sorry, I …"

"You have seen it." Instead of being upset, the young lady smiled gently. She approached him; he gave her the things.

"He is the one who looks like you," Seraphina gazed at the sketch. "His name is Degel. I drew this sketch myself."

"You are really good in sketching, my lady. The picture really resembled him."

"Oh …," Seraphina widened her blue eyes. "Do you know him?"

Now Camus really wanted to freeze himself. What should he say to this lady? _Yes, I know him, he is my incarnation who had visited twentieth century and we had really great time together?_

"I …," Camus coughed. "Well … who doesn't know him …? People often talk about him. The most intelligent saint in Sanctuary, the one who assists the Pope to interpret the stars …." It wasn't a lie.

Seraphina nodded slightly. "You're right. I've known him since he was five or six years old. He was my little brother's best friend, and when he was trained to become an Aquarius saint, we rarely met again."

She sat on her bed, still gazed at the picture. When she had enough, she turned at Camus. "What's your name?"

"Camus," he answered curtly.

"Well, Camus, you must be hungry," she smiled and stood up. "I will call the maids and ask them too—" she didn't continue, because suddenly her knees dropped on the floor.

"Your ladyship," Camus marched on her and helped her to stand up.

He was anxious when seeing how pale she was. "You're alright?"

"Yes, I'm alright …," she closed her eyes when Camus carried her and laid her on the bed. She looked devastated, as if she just ate very bitter meals.

"Should I call someone?" asked Camus.

"No … it was too late, after all …" whispered Seraphina.

Camus tried to understand what she meant.

When he did, his eyes went dim.

How could he forget…? In eighteenth century Lady Seraphina got fatal illness which would lead her to death. When she passed away, Unity used her body as Poseidon's vessel. And Degel didn't know it. Degel didn't know all things happened to the one he loved, until he and Kardia took part in the Holy War.

"I know I will die …," Seraphina said quietly. She slowly rose up and leaned her back against the headboard. "But I try not to be weak. I don't want to stay on the bed time and again … Besides …," she bowed her head. Camus had just realized she never stopped holding Degel's sketch.

He slowly pulled a chair and placed it next to Seraphina's bed, then he sat there. Seraphina gazed at him with mixture of sadness and serenity.

"Couple weeks ago," Seraphina whispered, "I left my bed and rode my mount alone. The moon was smiling, and the stars twinkle in the velvety night."

Her voice filled the air as if they were the melody of an elegy.

"I wanted to go to Sanctuary. I was so stupid, weren't I …?" she smiled sadly. "I really wanted to meet him. We hadn't met for a long time. The last time I met him is when he had been fifteen years old—I had been eighteen at that time. He had visited Bluegaard to greet Unity and my father. He had changed a lot … he hadn't been a child I had used to know. He becomes a saint, a young man who lives for his dreams and promises."

She took a deep breath, then bowed her head again. "We hadn't talked much. I remember he had talked to me about weather, and that's it. I had only been able to admire him from afar, as always.

"But now that I am dying, I want to talk to him. About a lot of things. Anything.

"I failed to reach Sanctuary. The weather was really wild and made me falling from the mount. My illness became worse, and both my father and Unity warned me not to travel that far again."

She smiled and shook her head. "I'm so sorry … I don't know why I tell you this much. I even never told Unity about this …," she looked at him. "Maybe because you're so familiar to me. Are you sure we never met before?"

Camus gazed at her.

"Maybe we've met before," he said quietly. "Maybe I've met you couple times … but not in this form …"

She smiled again.

"Do you really want to see him?" asked Camus then.

She nodded.

"Your ladyship …," he a bit startled when he reached Seraphina's hand and grasped it softly. He wasn't a kind of person who would do a thing such as holding a woman's hand, mostly the woman he just met. But Seraphina was different … he felt like he had known her for years. The soul living in his body was the same with Degel's—the same soul who loved this lady of Bluegaard.

"Do you love him …?" he asked.

Seraphina went quiet for very long time.

She closed her eyes and bit her lips when her warm tears started to fall.

-000-

-000-

_**Kido's mansion, twentieth century …**_

Milo just arrived at Japan and he immediately grabbed Saga's collar when he saw him.

"Tell me, Saga!" he snarled. "Did you really send Camus to eighteenth century? Did you really alter Camus's hut into ley?"

"Milo—"

"You!" Milo snarled and shook his body harshly. "What if he's unable to return to this century?"

"Milo, listen—"

"He's alone there, he hardly knows anybody!"

"Mil—"

"What if he never comes back? What if he gets depressed and has a suicide?"

"That's imposs—"

"Do something, Saga!"

"Milo—"

"Send him back here, or I'll—"

"Milo, Milo! Listen to me!" the Gemini shouted impatiently. "I'm not Saga, alright? I'm Kanon!"

…

Milo released his hands from Kanon's collar and tried to hide his face which immediately went scarlet.

"Sorry …," he murmured.

"Saga is in the library," snarled Kanon. "Shaka's with him."

"Okay …" without looking at Kanon, Milo stepped to the library and entered. When he saw the real Saga he soon marched at him and ready to grab his collar, but Shaka soon hindered him.

"Saga, please," said Milo in exhaustion.

He didn't even remember about his journey to Japan, nor that the plane was flying in a great turbulence because of bad weather. What he remembered was, after Saga had called him and told him everything, he immediately ran to the airport without even wearing any coat. "Send him back here," he said.

"I know, Milo, I've discussed with Shaka about the things we can do," said Saga, with more exhaustion.

"What will we do? Making a contract with a demon and ask him to travel Camus back to twentieth century?" asked Milo in irony.

"You watch occult movies too much, Milo," Shaka said flatly.

"He is in _eighteenth century_!" Milo snapped. "He is not having vacation to China or something, he is in another dimension! He is two hundred years away from here, how come you can be this calm?"

"We'll never be able to solve the problem by screaming and shouting," Saga said firmly.

Milo panted.

He freed his hands from Shaka, put his hands on his hips, and looked at Saga in hopelessness.

"What we're going to do now?" he finally asked, with low and calm voice. "Will we ask for Athena's help?"

"No, we will not," answered Shaka. "We will not involve Athena again in this kind of disarray."

"Poseidon?"

"We've had too many debts on him," replied Saga.

"_Chronos_?"

"Are you insane?"

"Then who?"

"No one. We are not going to ask for anybody's assistance," said Shaka. "We will go to India."

Milo stunned.

"_What?_"

-000-

-000-


	4. Four

**Four**

Camus wandered lonely above the shimmering iceland, accompanied by those monotonous wind and light blizzard. The mists floated under the grey clouds, the breeze produced a sound as if it was filled with whispery butterflies.

In the midst of the land he turned around, gazing at the magnificent castle he just left.

Seraphina was standing in one of its towers, wearing her delicate coats and her beloved winter headdress. Her long hair was dancing in the breeze, shining and immaculate, as though they were layered by glimmering silver threads. Though she was many feet away from him, he could see that she was smiling, hoping.

Camus turned and continued walking. The journey to Sanctuary would spend couple days with boat and mounts, but it wasn't a big deal. He would visit Degel and asked him to see Seraphina of Bluegaard. Maybe this was the first time he was willing to do something for the sake of somebody else's delight.

As he passed the line which separated the territory of Russia and Siberia, he remembered all things Seraphina had said.

"Love?" she asked as she brushed her tears away.

"Yes," said Camus. "Do you love him, Your Ladyship …?"

"If love is a feeling that brings you blissfulness and pain simultaneously, and makes you wishing a certain person to be the one you'll spend your life with … and causes you to despise reality because he is more reachable in your dreams … then yes, I love him," she confessed, then smiled sadly when another warm tears started to stream down her cheeks. "But I don't think he does …"

"He loves you," Camus soon replied. "He loves you the same as he loves every flakes of snow that cheer up his life. He loves you too much that it hurts." Then he began to flush after realizing how flowery his words were. Where did he learn those words? Oh, right. Poetry …

But soon he acknowledged that it weren't excessive sentences. Degel truly loved her that way … He never told him personally, but he shared a soul with Degel and he could identify every single feeling he had.

"How do you know?" asked Seraphina in bewilderment.

"I … Well … I just … based on your stories I conclude that he loves you too …"

"But I only tell you very small things about him."

"Ummm … I am … I'm only guessing …"

Seraphina laughed slightly. Camus felt a bliss he couldn't explain when seeing that laughter.

"Speaking of which …," said Seraphina then. "You haven't told me about yourself."

"There's nothing interesting about me," murmured Camus.

He spoke of the truth. What was interesting about him anyway? That he was a loner who always thought he could do anything by himself?

"I'm a good listener," smiled Seraphina.

Camus took a deep breath, and finally he began to speak.

"I have a disciple … His name is Alexei Hyoga." He felt that talking about Hyoga was better than talking about himself.

"What was he like?"

"A bit melancholy," Camus smiled slightly for the first time. "Cold, but melancholy. I'm only six years older, but the people who watch us walking together always assume that we are father and son."

Then he told her about Milo. And Saga. And Shaka. And all his fellows. He talked about them sincerely and earnestly he couldn't stop, though he realized that the more the stories he told, the more the loneliness he felt …

Once again he wondered if he could see them again. He had just realized how much they meant for him when they'd been far, so far away he could only meet them in his dreams.

"You have very wonderful friends," Seraphina's eyes twinkled brightly.

Camus knew the twinkle. He had seen it in Degel's eyes … And the heartwarming coolness swirling around Seraphina's presence, it was very similar with Degel's.

"Yes," Camus nodded a bit. "But I'm but an iceberg who hardly treasures their presence."

"Ice is transience," she said gently. "No matter how hard it is, it will defrost and melt one day."

"It's too late. I wonder whether I will see them again," he murmured quietly. His deep blue eyes gazed at afar. "I was set apart from them. And now they're too far away …"

"As long as we're breathing, nothing is too late."

Those were the words that encouraged Camus to take a journey to Sanctuary. _As long as we're breathing, nothing is too late … _

_As long as you're breathing, Lady Seraphina … it's never too late to reach the Aquarius saint and bring him to you._

In the journey Camus passed the cruel weathers, variant old-fashioned people, wild sea waves, and a lot of obstruction he had to confront alone. He sighed for million times, wondering why plane wasn't created two hundred years earlier. He could inhale a relief breath only when he was successful stepping on the land of Greece.

He walked hurriedly to reach the Acropolis. He didn't have much time—Seraphina's health got worse in every minute and he needed to do everything rapidly. When the twelve temples took form in his eyes, he began to run.

But he stopped when he thought he heard a sound.

"Camus …"

Camus turned around to see if someone was calling him. But he saw nobody.

He sighed.

Maybe he was only dreamy … many people said hallucination tended to attack a lonely man …

He shook, then continued running.

But he could hear that the troublesome sound got louder and louder.

"Camus. What kind of human are you, ignoring Buddha's reincarnation's call?"

The Aquarius turned around once more …

… and he widened his eyes when he saw the golden hair he knew.

…

"_Shaka …?_"

-000-

-000-

_**Back then, River of Ganges, twentieth century …**_

"This Earth has enormous energies which often called as ley lines," said Shaka.

Shaka, Saga, and Milo were standing near the River of Ganges in India.

The river was extraordinarily splendid—it was swaying softly as the water reflected the sun, radiating transparent hues which resembled dusts of jewels. The mood of exoticism was very thick here, substantial, deep. Even in only brief glances, both Saga and Milo acknowledged this river was more than meet the eye.

"The places which are marked by ley lines contain vigor that is beyond anyone imagination. The Acropolis in Greece, Nazca lines in Peru, Stonehenge in Britain, Borobudur Temple in Indonesia, Euphrates and Tigris of Mesopotamia, the pyramids in Egypt, and of course, The River of Ganges in India. The energies are so huge that it can send you to different space and time."

Shaka sat with crossed leg near the river. His long golden hair framed his serene face. "You cannot fight against time unless you have a power which surpassed light-speed. I believe the Ganges River has such colossal vigor, that is why I think it is able to travel you to the eighteenth century. But …"

Milo frowned. He hated when someone added the word 'but' when he was speaking.

"Human's flesh is pathetic compared to the power of Ganges River," said Shaka. "If your body cannot cope with the power, you will be destroyed. You will end to be but dusts of blood.

"Nevertheless, I, the representation of Buddha, have more advantage than common beings. Even though most of my power has been sealed by Athena, my body is still able to cope with the power of Ganges River, given it is the place I have been raised."

He gazed at his two fellows.

"Forgive me for looking down on both of you. But I am the only one who could bring Camus back to this century."

"You say human's flesh is pathetic compared to the power of Ganges River," said Milo. "But like it or not, Camus has to follow you to Ganges River to come back to this century—isn't it too dangerous for him? What if his flesh destroyed because he can't cope with its power?"

"I will enter Ganges River to travel to the eighteenth century, but when I returning with Camus to the twentieth century, I will not take risk to use Ganges River again. Travelling to the future is easier than traveling to the past, given that time is linear as an arrow. When travelling to the future, you do not need too much power. I and Camus will enter the ley lines in the Acropolis, which are located in …"

"The Twelve Temples," Saga guessed.

"True."

When Shaka was about to enter the Ganges River, Milo grasped his shoulder.

"I beg you to bring him back," he said quietly.

Shaka smiled. "Let us pray in order I will not die in the effort."

-000-

-000-

_**Acropolis, eighteenth century …**_

"And you are not dying," said Camus.

He and Shaka were standing near the ruins and pillars of Acropolis loaded with white dusts and sands.

"As expected from Shaka of Virginity," Camus continued as he gave his rare smile.

He couldn't depict how huge the relief he felt right now … He had been so sure that he had got no chance to see his fellows again, but now Shaka was standing in front of him, haughty yet kind as usual. He was no longer alone, and he couldn't wait to return to his home, where he belonged. But he knew he still had to see Degel and fulfill his promise to Seraphina.

"The frozen Aquarius saint wants to fight for somebody else's bliss." Shaka smiled after he heard Camus's plan. He sat on the ground with his legs crossed. "That is a big news. I think I have to let you do your mission peacefully. I will wait you here."

Camus nodded slightly. He turned around, but he faced Shaka again when he barely took five steps.

"I'm really glad you are here," he said thankfully.

"What an unworthy human being," said Shaka as he closed his eyes. "Who only understands the real essence of loneliness when he is all alone."

Camus smiled slightly, very much agreed with Shaka's words that he didn't say any words. Then he turned around and began to run to Twelve Temples.

As Camus had expected, the Twelve Temples were guarded by twelve saints who were so ready to tear down any suspicious intruder into the maggot's meals. The thought that he had to fight against those iron-clothed guys was almost unbearable … but he had had a plan. Thanks to his appearance, he was sure they would assume him as Degel. He would pretend to be Degel until he reached the Aquarius Temple.

As he stepped to the Aries temple he unconsciously set his fringe closer to his eyelids. For the first time in his life he hoped to have longer fringe in order he could gain a more resemblance with Degel, but he tried not to give too much concern. As long as he stepped fast and not letting the Gold Saints watching him too closer, he would be alright.

"Hello, Shion," Camus smiled slightly as he passed the Aries Saint. He tried to imitate Degel's style, cold but not too much.

"Good day, Degel. Where are you from?" Shion asked. Camus was glad Shion only looked at him at glance. "Outside," Camus answered shortly.

Camus didn't get too much trouble when passing the next temples. Hasgard was nice, Aspros wasn't there, Manigoldo yawned, Regulus only greeted him shortly, Asmita didn't care about anything as always …, Dohko chatted a little with him but didn't recognize him, and Kardia …

"Where are you from?" the Scorpio asked harshly. "I thought you were upstairs."

"I went for a while. You just didn't notice," answered Camus. He kept stepping to the exit without even glancing at Kardia.

"Wait," Kardia snarled.

Camus slowly stopped. He was in the middle of Scorpio Temple's exit right now, his back was on Kardia.

"Yes?" he replied.

"You are not Degel, are you?"

Silence.

"Stop saying foolish thing, Kardia."

"_Scarlet Needle_!"

Camus barely had a second to escape the blow. He threw his weight aside, and the cursed needle piercing the hollow air.

"Who are you?" Kardia snapped. "How dare you intrude The Twelve Temples?"

There was no use of pretending. Camus didn't have any choice anyway; he had to say the truth or he would die futilely in the hand of this explosive saint.

"I'm Camus of Aquarius," said Camus firmly as he faced Kardia. "I'm the Aquarius Saint of the twentieth century, the Water Carrier, Ganymede's representation, the close acquaintance of Milo of Scorpio, your reincarnation. I'm here to see Degel of Aquarius. This is really important and I hope you don't interfere."

Kardia was stricken for a while.

Then he laughed out loud.

"You think I can be fooled by that kind of children tale?" he snarled, still laughing.

"Perhaps," said Camus calmly. "But I'm sure Degel has told you everything about his time travel to the twentieth century, when he met me and the other Gold Saints."

Kardia was about to reply, but then he went silent after he remembered Degel's weird experience couple times ago.

"Now, I don't have much time," said Camus as he turned around. "I have to see Degel soon."

"Both of you may look alike," Kardia's voice was echoing behind him. "But you're too much different with him. You're too hardhearted. That's why I can immediately tell that you're not him."

Camus didn't stop. He kept running, and only replied with a quiet tone. "Yes. We're two very different people."

_But I'm a human too. Even though I am inferior compared to Degel I'm not a merciless wrench they think I am._

He passed the Sagittarius, the Capricorn, and finally, he entered the Aquarius.

There Camus saw the young man he knew.

The young man—wore casual clothes consisted of winter jacket, t shirt, dark long pants and leg warmers—was standing in front of his bookshelves, reaching a book, then reading it.

Couple minutes later, he turned his head and saw Camus in the middle of the entrance.

His blue eyes widened in surprise.

"Hello, Degel," Camus greeted. "It's been a while."

-000-


	5. Five

**Five**

Degel couldn't even blink.

…

"What are you doing here?" asked Degel after he was able to talk. Seeing his reincarnation in his temple wasn't the thing he could do everyday.

"Lady Seraphina is really ill," said Camus as he approached him. "She really wants to see you."

The silence which followed had the sound of chiming bells.

"Lady Seraphina," Degel's eyes went dim when he mentioned the name.

"Yes, Degel, she really wants to see you."

"Is there any explanation why the future Aquarius saint is _here_ and telling me this?"

"It's not important, I'll tell you once everything's done, now we'd better go to Bluegaard soon."

Degel went silent. His blue eyes were gazing at nowhere, to the place beyond Camus's reach.

He was exactly the same as Camus recalled. The same long dark emerald hair, the same wonderful blue eyes, the same cool cosmos that reminded him to the winter days in West Europe. And the same sadness that occurred in his demeanor everytime he thought about Seraphina.

"Degel."

Degel looked at him.

"She said you rarely talk to each other," said Camus quietly.

Degel smiled slightly and shook his head. "It's not easy to talk to someone you have a feeling with," he said as he returned his book to his shelf.

"I know. Now we'd better go to Bluegaard before everything's too late."

"Since when a cold Aquarius Saint became a go-between?" Degel smiled again.

Camus sighed in a hint of impatience. "You wanna go or not?"

"Of course I will go," replied Degel as he walked to the Aquarius entrance calmly.

Even the cold Camus wondered why Degel could stay cool over hearing the bad news about the lady he loved most.

"Don't you worry?" Camus hurriedly walked beside him.

"Speaking of which," Degel didn't answer, "Am I supposed to know that Lady Seraphina is ill?"

"Why you ask me that?"

"The one who tell me this is Camus of Aquarius, my reincarnation who exists two hundred years later. I conclude that if you didn't come, I would never know she is ill. Are you, let's say, changing a history right now?"

Camus went silent.

He knew he was altering a history now, but he didn't think it would affect the more significant thing such as the Holy War or the time when Degel acknowledged Seraphina became Poseidon's vessel. He only wanted Degel to see Seraphina before she passed away, that's all. He wouldn't do further than that, such as telling Degel that his loved one, also his best friend Unity, would be the people he had to fight in the Holy War. Revealing such big fate would result in big chaos towards the linearity of time.

"Maybe I am changing a history," murmured Camus. "But not too much."

"A single flap of a butterfly can create a storm in certain place," said Degel. "No matter how small the difference you create, it would affect the whole universe, the whole space, the whole atoms exist in this age. And the most important, it will affect my future. And my future, Camus, is _you_. Are you sure you want me to do this?"

Degel stopped slowly and gazed on Camus. He gazed on him steadily that for a certain second Camus felt all the things he had done for Seraphina were a mistake.

But soon he gained his composure again. "I'll take all the risks," he said coldly.

Degel nodded slightly, then continued walking, followed by Camus.

-000-

-000-

Their journey to Bluegaard was thick with silence. Camus could tell that his incarnation had a lot of thoughts in his mind; he didn't have any slightest will to interrupt or interfere. So far they were only talking about why Camus could be here in eighteenth century. They didn't even speak of any single thing about Seraphina—Camus began to wonder and doubt: was this man really in love with Seraphina or not?

Then Camus realized maybe Degel and him were just the same. His feeling was something that he kept personally—nobody needed to know about it. The love, the worry, the sadness, all were hidden in a calm mask which nobody but himself could shatter.

The long journey almost ended when they reached the barrier of Siberia. The atmosphere changed drastically, and any sane person would surely escape the frosty land which gradually soaked up the warmth of their skin. But Camus and Degel's demeanors oppositely resembled those who had reached their home, at last.

The Bluegaard castle finally came into view, showing its shining silvery walls and towers. Camus glanced at Degel, who looked more thoughtful than before.

As they walked closer to the castle, suddenly they heard a sound coming not too from there.

" …. wake up …! Wake up, Natassia …!"

Camus was a bit stunned hearing the name.

_Natassia_…?

But soon he remembered that Natassia was a common name for Russian female.

"Wake up, child!"

The sound got louder as Camus and Degel stepped closer. Gradually, they could see two shapes kneeling on the snows. No … three shapes, only one of them was laying frozen on the snows, her body was being shaken by the one who hugged her tight.

Degel stopped slowly after the three shapes were quite clear to be seen from afar. Both him and Camus could see Seraphina trying to soothe a woman whose daughter had died because of Siberian extreme coldness. Death was really common in that land.

"Gaspazha (Mrs.) …," whispered Seraphina. "She has passed away …"

The woman was screaming hysterically, hugging her little daughter and shook her heavily than before. "No! NO! No, Natassia!"

"I beg you not to shake her …," Seraphina kept trying to soothe the woman down by encircling her hand on her shoulders, but the woman released her harshly. "You will hurt her …," said Seraphina.

"Let me go!" the woman screamed. "Let me go! I want my Natassia! I want her to come back to life! Wake up, Natassia!"

"She passed away, Gaspazha …," Seraphina tried to hold her arms again, but the woman pushed her body so hard that she was descended on the snows.

Camus reacted in reflex, but he stopped when seeing that Degel was standing still, watching the scene with the expression Camus couldn't understand.

"Wake up!" the woman's voice was so agonizing as if it was tearing the wind.

"Let's move to my castle," said Seraphina as she held the woman again. "It's very cold here,"

"No! I want to stay here with my Natassia!" the woman sobbed uncontrollably. "I want to be with her! I want to follow her! Let this cruel weather kill me so I can die following her!"

"Stop saying something like that!" Seraphina's voice suddenly got stern. Tears fell from her eyes as she forced the woman to face her. She clutched her shoulders really tight that the woman couldn't escape even though she struggled hard.

"You could say such thing because you never know how it feels!" Seraphina said. "You don't know how it feels to be dying … how it feels to have a very short time in your life! When you are dying …," she wept for a while, then continued, "… you'll treasure even every minute, every second, every single moment when you're still able to breathe … You'll treasure every moment to live, to laugh, to cry, to hope, everything that'll make you set your pain aside …! I never stop hoping the impossible things that I start to believe I'm going mad … I even hope to see a man I never talked to … I never talked to him because I was too haughty thinking that I could live longer and talk with him at anytime …"

Seraphina sobbed earnestly. She gazed at the snows and almost didn't aware that the woman wasn't struggling again, only crying and looked at her steadily.

From afar, Degel gazed at Seraphina in tranquility.

"You musn't give up your life …," Seraphina whispered as she grasped the woman's shoulders. "You mustn't stop hoping … Because as long as we're breathing … hopes are sprinkling in everywhere … You have to live for your hopes, for your daughter's hopes … for Natassia …"

The woman was crying for a very long time.

She hugged her daughter and kissed her forehead.

Seraphina's words finally had made her gaining her composure, and she realized there was nothing she could do to make his daughter came back into life …

All she could do now was living, and hoping …

"Do you understand …?" whispered Seraphina. "You have to live for your hopes … for a dream …"

"I understand … Your Ladyship …"

Her shoulders and back were shaking as Seraphina gave her warm embrace, an embrace which made her thinking of summer and springtime … even in this extremely low weather.

Couple moments later, some number of pawns approached Seraphina. She asked them to bring the woman and her deceased daughter into the castle.

Afterwards Seraphina stood up …

… and that was the time when she saw Degel standing afar.

Now the stillness had the sound of tranquil harmony as they gazed at each other … in the midst of falling snowflakes and translucent mists.

Degel stepped slowly towards her, then bowed in honour when he was approximately three feet away from her.

"I am home … Lady Seraphina …," he said. "Forgive me for keeping you waiting too long …"

The snowflakes were blown gracefully by the wind.

Seraphina smiled as tears fell from her eyes.

_As long as we're breathing … hopes are sprinkling in everywhere …_

_At last I can see you standing here …_

"No, Degel," she whispered. "Forgive me …"

She slowly approached him and held his shoulders.

Then she gave a grateful gaze on Camus, who smiled slightly from afar.

"Speaking of which …," she said. She wanted to say a lot of things._ How are you? What took you so long? Let's talk about a lot of things …anything… _

But instead she said, "I wonder if you know Camus. He really looks like you …"

Degel glanced at Camus for a while, then smiled as he gazed on Seraphina again. "He's an old friend," he said.

"Really …?" she didn't quite believe him.

The seconds went by, and Degel saw that Seraphina's feature went paler. She had been outside the castle too long and the cold weather began to weaken her.

He almost closed his eyes in grief when holding Seraphina in his arms as she collapsed …

He gazed on her serene face, softly brushing the strands of hair from her closed eyes. Then he slowly reached her hand to feel her veins. She was still alive, but the heartbeat was so weak.

"Camus," he tried to speak in his usual voice as he carried Seraphina. "What are you doing there? Let's get in." Then he wandered slowly towards the castle.

Camus nodded and obeyed him.

He was smiling—truly smiling it was.

He was amused in acknowledging that Degel's tone was much colder than usual. He knew Degel tried to hide his feeling by speaking in such tone.

_Love _…, he thought. _… is thawing the winter and wintering the thaw …_

**To Be Continued**

-000-


	6. Six

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, it means a lot for me … :hugs: The last five chapters are here ^^ I almost cried when finished this story you know I haven't finished a lot of stories in recent times. Anyway, thank you very much, and please R&R. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own SS characters**

**Note: **

**-I've changed the orders of the chapters; the prologue is included in Chapter One, but there is no revision at all in the contents.**

**-In case there is a question why Unity doesn't appear in this fics, I mean it for narrative reasons.**

**Six**

It's been two hours since Degel sat next to Seraphina's bed. She was still unconscious, lying on the soft sheet, with her hands were clasped on her abdomen. She looked so serene beneath the brocade-layered quilt coating her body. Too serene that Degel thought she might never open her eyes again …

He gazed at her with dim eyes, as if his blue orbs were canopied by clustering leaves from a grove surrounded with ice.

"You said you want to talk to me," he said with soft voice.

Trying to hold back his grief, he gazed on the falling snowflakes outside. The evening had come, painting the sky with dark violet hue. The snowflakes were the only brightness, presenting their sweet glazes inside the night.

Gracia and Unity had left him alone with Seraphina. They knew Seraphina had waited for years for this moment, and every interruption would surely give it a fracture.

Degel then leaned his back on the wall, trying to block every pain that traveled in his veins, but it didn't work. The guilt of not reuniting with Seraphina earlier stabbed him as cruel stilettos. Would he still have any moment to share his feelings with her? Would Seraphina wake up even for couple minutes so she could hear how much he cherished her …?

He gazed on her visage again. Her lovely feature, her beautiful eyes, the perfect contour of her face. She was beautiful as always. In his childhood he often complimented her, but at that moment he hadn't known love and still considered her as his big sister.

"Lady Seraphina!" he thought of the time he had been much young and cheerful as spring.

"Degel!" the young lady approached him, smiled widely as she ruffled his short hair. "I'm really glad you're here! You've got very much fun, haven't you?"

"Perfect. And …," he suddenly flushed.

"And?"

"It is even more perfect because I can see your beautiful face again!"

She laughed and ruffled his hair once more.

They sat under the spruce firs until twilight came, talking about a lot of things.

"You will be a handsome man as well," Seraphina smiled.

"I don't wanna be handsome," said Degel as he shook his head. "I want to grow up so I can fulfill my promises to Unity and reach my dream."

"That's very kind of you."

"You know, Lady Seraphina?" he looked at Seraphina with bright eyes. "I'll see you again when I'm fifteen, in the day when I will have become a saint. I will tell you all my experience, and we'll sit under these spruce firs again!"

But they didn't sit under the spruce firs again …

When he turned fifteen, he didn't look at Seraphina the same way. She was ten thousand times more beautiful than ever … and suddenly he couldn't speak well once they were close to each other.

"The weather is nice, isn't it?" he said, at that time.

Seraphina nodded and smiled. "Yes."

Then went silent afterwards. Degel couldn't believe in his demeanor; had the rough training made him become completely dull or what…?

Now that they met again, he feared he wouldn't have any chance…

He was about to gaze on the window again, when he sensed a slight move. He saw that Seraphina's eyes slowly opened. He inhaled a relief breath, felt deeply thankful on this miracle.

"Lady Seraphina," he said gently.

She turned her head and smiled at him, then closed her eyes for a while when he touched her cheek.

"Would you …," said Seraphina after couple minutes. "Would you take me to the backyard …?"

"But you're still ill."

"I want to be there …," she said.

Degel nodded in understanding. He, very softly, tucked his hands beneath her back and her knees to carry her to the backyard.

The moment he carried her were passing so slow, as though the Earth's rotation had decreased as well as the clock. Degel kept his eyes steadily to the front, with his visage neutral as ever. But his eyes were filled with emptiness even an ice knight like him couldn't hide.

Seraphina closed her eyes as she attached her head on his chest, as she felt his heartbeat, also the warmth emitted from his swirling cool cosmos.

They finally exited the rear gate. There was a garden whose beauty was far beyond anyone's imagination.

There were silver lanterns whose glows could create sparkles surround the falling snows. A statue carved of glacier was standing in the middle, a silver fence encircled it. It was a statue of Cygnus constellation—the swan which was spreading its wings gracefully like elegant ice princess. The spruce-firs coated with glazy ice were clustering, as though it was a monument of emerald and sapphire.

Degel slowly sat on the bench under the firs, with Seraphina in his arms. A very deep silence followed afterwards.

"Degel," she then whispered.

"Yes?" Degel still didn't look at her.

Seraphina's tears fell as she and closed her eyes for some seconds. Her voice was very soft as she spoke. "I …" she didn't continue.

Degel slowly bowed and looked at her. His blue eyes and her beautiful grey ones met.

"What …?" he asked quietly.

Seraphina was still a bit nervous of Degel's reaction. But she was about to die, and this could be her only chance to tell him the way he made her feel.

"I love you."

She said it. She had confessed it, and she was ready to hear Degel's bitter respond.

Then why did she still feel deep cut in her heart …?

"You may hate me because of this …," she whispered. "But I couldn't help it, and it wouldn't be fair if you choose to hate me because of something I couldn't refute … And speaking of which … why did you betray your promise …? You had said we would talk beneath those spruce firs again, but we didn't. Did you forget it …? But you didn't forget your promise to Unity … Degel …," she sobbed again. "Was the promise only a simple joke …? Was it—"

"Sssh," Degel brushed her lips with his.

Seraphina was frozen for a while, but then she closed her eyes and replied him earnestly.

"I love you too," he whispered as he attached his forehead on hers. "That's why we didn't talk beneath those spruce firs again …"

They were gazing at each other for very long time. Then Seraphina bowed, clung her head against his chest with tears kept streaming down her cheeks.

"It's too late anyway …," she whispered. "I will soon die …"

"I wouldn't let it happen," he said.

Very gently, as if he was holding too-fragile porcelain, Degel reached Seraphina's hand and began to transfer his cosmos through her veins.

"You're healing me …?" she whispered in wonder as she felt her strength gradually returned. "It needs very enormous power, Degel …"

"I know."

"It'll drain your technique."

Degel stroked Seraphina's cheek with his other hand, then touched her forehead with his lips. It was enough an answer for Seraphina.

Afterwards they finally began to talk to each other. They discussed about a lot of things, spoken from the depth of their hearts … Sometimes they laughed, talked with enthusiasm, even made jokes … They hadn't been that blissful before, not in their childhood, not in their thoughts, not in their sweetest dreams.

"Degel," Seraphina whispered when the twinkling stars had fulfilled most part of the sky.

"Hm?"

"Who is Camus …?"

A pause.

"Only an old friend," he said quietly.

"Are you sure …?"

"Absolutely."

When Seraphina finally closed her eyes to sleep, Degel attached his chin on her hair and whispered, "It's very cold here. Don't you feel cold, Seraphina …?"

Seraphina smiled as she felt every contour and lines of Degel's embrace.

"No," she answered. "Not at all …"

-000-

-000-

_**Two weeks later, eighteenth century …**_

Camus was standing in the midst of the iceland, gazing at afar peacefully. The chilly wind blew his feature, the flakes of snow showered him gracefully he looked more dazzling. He always loved standing alone in this favorite land. As he did it, he would begin to think about everything flashed in his mind.

Couple weeks had passed since he picked Degel up from Sanctuary by sneaking in the ley in the Pope Hall. There were two leys in the Pope Hall: the one which would transfer them in different linearity of time, and the one which simply brought them to Aries temple. They were so lucky for Sage and Shion were traveling somewhere at that time—it really saved their time and necks (confronting the two surely would end in oh-not-so-good result …).

Degel hadn't leave Seraphina's side since they had met each other, and Camus didn't think about leaving them either. He would wait until he was sure everything would be alright, otherwise he would time-travel to twentieth century with worry and uncertainty.

He was about to think of Seraphina's health, when he saw someone stepping towards him.

The man bowed at him when he had been right in front of him. From his uniform, Camus recognized him as the pawn who guarded the twelve temples.

"Good day, Aquarius Degel," he said.

Camus blinked.

"Good day," answered Camus then. Lying was better than making the matter more complicated.

"I have looked for you everywhere and I finally find you here. I bring the message from the Pope."

"Um …," murmured Camus. "What message?"

The pawn coughed a bit, then said, "_'Aquarius Degel, how dare you left your post and left the Aquarius temple unguarded? You have made serious disobedience and you can be punished on such account. I order you to return as fast as possible_.'"

Camus went silent, then turned his head and stared at the Bluegaard castle. Afterwards he faced the pawn again. "I still have something to do. Would you return to Sanctuary and tell the Pope I will come back once I've finished?"

"Forgive me, Aquarius Degel, but I would not return without you."

Camus took a deep breath after he thought of the best thing to do. "If it is what you want …," he murmured. "Go to the castle and wait for me inside. The pawns will greet you."

If the pawn felt annoyed on this delay, he didn't show it. He simply bowed and obeyed 'Degel's' order, then stepped to the castle and disappeared behind its gate.

Camus continued gazing at nowhere. It was so quiet here, so empty. Quietness had been something he had treasured in his whole life, but right now he realized how absurd it was.

He suddenly thought about his fellows. What did they do now …? Fighting for food again? Or maybe destroyed Kido's mansion into grain and used it for Biki's food? Camus couldn't help to smile at that thought. He was only separated from his fellows for a while, but it felt like forever.

Then he thought about Shaka, the one who passed Ganges River for his sake. What did he do now …? Surely he was meditating as ever, but Camus wondered what he was thinking of when the meditation was over. Okay … the meditation was _hardly_ over, but surely Shaka had a bit time off. Was there any certain thing flashing in his mind? Did the Buddha have any wish or expectation? If he did, what was it …? Camus never even asked him, never even cared …

And finally Milo's shadow appeared. The light in Camus's eyes faded when he thought of him. If only Milo was here … this land wouldn't feel this dull. He was stunned when realizing he could bear getting lost in whatever century—the Dark Ages was included—as long as Milo was by his side.

He didn't know whether it was only his imagination, or because he was too lonely and friendless, but suddenly he thought he heard someone calling out his name.

"Camus …"

Okay … he was imagining things again._ Stop it_ …, he snarled to himself. There was no call—after all nobody even knew him in this deserted ancient land. He swore when he returned in twentieth century, he would see a schizophrenic expert to check if he suffered one.

"Camus …!"

But the sound was louder, the same with Shaka's voice he'd heard back then. The Aquarius began to stare at the distance. Was it only the effect of the fogs, or did he really see someone was running towards him?

"Camus! Camus!"

The figure began to form in his vision. Camus saw the colour he had known for fourteen years, the colour which was easy to distinguish from the others, even the typical ones.

Violet blue.

-000-

-000-


	7. Seven

**Seven**

"I'm here, Camus! I'm here!" the voice went louder.

Camus felt like he was frozen by his own Freezing Coffin as the figure was clearer and clearer.

…

"_Milo_ …" he wondered in astonishment.

"I'm here! Wait for—ouch!" the figure Camus thought was Milo stumbled and fell headfirst on the snow. Camus was about to approach him, but he soon arose and started to run again. "I'm alright!" the figure laughed happily. "I'm alright, Camus!"

The figure got closer, and when he had been right in front of Camus, he immediately hugged him really tight Camus couldn't breath.

"Hey—"

"Camus!" he laughed in relief and joy.

Either way, Camus still had to confirm whether this man was really Milo or not. He released the hug and stared at the young man scrupulously.

"What?" Milo laughed. "This is me! Your best friend! This is really me," he shook Camus's body lightly.

"Talking about a blasphemed and stubborn Scorpion …," there was another voice. Camus searched where it came from.

Shaka was wandering slowly towards them, looked very irritated that Camus feared he would crack Siberian iceland into two.

"Shaka…?"

"Camus!" another voice again. Camus turned his head, and saw Saga was marching on him and hugging him as well. He was laughing too, sounded so relieved and pleased.

Alright … now Camus was sure he had gone crazy._ How come_ Saga and Milo were _here_, in the year seventeen-something …? This was ridiculous … He wasn't objected in being nuts, but this was too much.

"They entered the River of Ganges," Shaka said in annoyance. "I have told them it was too dangerous, but your dear Scorpion best friend tried to find a way in order he could enter the river safely."

"By wearing our Gold Clothes," Milo said cheerfully.

Camus stared at him. He just realized Milo and Saga were bringing their Pandora boxes on their backs.

"_What_?"

"The Gold Clothes have been reborn and kept by Athena in Graud Foundation," said Saga. "They are sealed, but we asked Miss Saori to let us wearing them only for this moment."

"I have asked you not to involve Athena in this stupidity, haven't I?" asked Shaka in a calm yet deadly voice.

"Come on, Shaka … do you think Athena would let Camus to be rotting here in eighteenth century?" Milo sighed. "She's not objected anyway."

"I have told you I will do anything in order Camus can return safely," stressed Shaka. "Or don't you believe in my vow?"

"I'll entrust our lives on you," said Milo firmly. "But he is my best friend, Shaka."

The intensity of his voice made Camus's heart touched.

"And I was the one who caused this chaotic foolishness," Saga added flatly.

Shaka only glared, but Camus looked at them in thankfulness and relief he could never express.

He was smiling now, warmth began to emit from his eyes. At this very moment he didn't care whether he could come back or not. As long as they were here, their fellows, their family … being lost in eighteenth century was hardly a matter to be worried of.

"How are you?" asked Milo as he wrapped his hand around his best friend's shoulder. "Hey," he continued with sparks in his eyes. "Is it just my eyes or you're really smiling at me now?"

"Brainless scorpion," murmured Camus as he hugged Milo tight.

Milo laughed again when he replied the hug and clapped his back kindly.

"Now let's go home," Saga smiled, clapping Camus's shoulder.

Camus's expression gradually changed hearing it.

He turned his head to the castle, wondering if this was really time to go. But he couldn't leave them this fast, not before he made sure both Degel and Seraphina would be alright.

"I …," said Camus as he faced his fellows again.

"What happened?" asked Milo, a frown on his forehead.

"Has your Aquarius incarnation met his beloved one?" asked Shaka then.

Camus looked at him, then nodded.

"Well done," said Shaka in a calm yet firm tone. "Your mission is over, Camus. It is time to go home."

Even if Camus had an urge to respond, he wouldn't have known what to say.

Shaka was right. All of these were meant to reunite Degel and Seraphina. It was done. Degel himself had also told him he would routinely heal Seraphina until she recovered from her illness. Seraphina surely would be alright by his side.

Camus didn't want to know whether Degel's deed would affect the history or time. As long as Seraphina was happy, the rest things would automatically be less important.

Slowly, Camus nodded. "But let me see Degel and Lady Seraphina first," he said with slight plead in his voice.

"As you wish," said Saga. "But don't make it too long."

"I won't."

"Hey, can't we enter the castle as well?" asked Milo in excitement. "Pope Shion told me there is a gigantic library inside the Bluegaard castle; I want to see it."

"Milo, do you think what the castle's members would say if Scorpio Kardia, Virgo Asmita, and Gemini Aspros entering their gates without any appointment?" asked Camus flatly.

"'An uninvited circus?'" Saga suggested, and both he and Milo immediately burst into laughter. Even Shaka chuckled a bit, and Camus's smile was no longer thin as before.

"Yeah, two faces Gemini, the Scorpion king, and beautiful Indian man," giggled Milo. "_Circus_ is the best catchphrase."

"By the way, how did you introduce yourself to the castle's members?" asked Saga to Camus.

"I only said I am Degel's old friend," Camus shrugged a bit, then he turned around and stepped to the castle.

"Too bad," Milo sighed. "I really want to see the library."

"Do you really want to see the library?" asked Shaka with narrow eyes. "Or Lady Seraphina?"

Milo blushed, and Saga laughed. "Gotcha, Milo," he chuckled cheerfully.

"Saga wants to see her too," murmured Milo.

"It is said that she has extremely beautiful eyes it will be dazzling in the dark," Shaka smiled.

"Whaaa, this is a good news!" Milo beamed. "Virgo Shaka is interested in woman!"

"I never say I am interested in Aphrodite," Shaka said flatly.

But Shaka suddenly got more thoughtful soon afterwards. He gazed at the castle and put his hand on his chin.

"What is it?" asked Saga.

"Aquarius Degel loves her very much," Shaka said quietly. "I am afraid he will do anything to keep her alive."

"What do you mean, Shaka, don't you feel happy about that?" asked Milo in surprise. "He will do anything to keep her alive. So?"

Shaka didn't answer.

He still gazed at the castle.

-000-

-000-

Camus bowed as he entered Seraphina's room. Degel was there as usual, sitting beside her bed and held her hands to give her the warmth she needed.

"Your Ladyship," he said. He was glad seeing Seraphina's bright feature; with her shining eyes and her radiant face resembling spring and orange days.

"Camus," she greeted him happily.

"May I talk to Degel for a while?" Camus asked.

"Of course," she smiled. "Speaking of which, have you come into the dining room? The maids serve a lot of icing-coated cakes."

"I'll be there soon, Your Ladyship," Camus smiled slightly, thinking about Milo who would definitely treasured the cakes.

Degel gently released Seraphina's hands, stood up, then exited the room together with Camus.

"So?" said Degel after they had been quite away from Seraphina's room. Camus studied his face for a while. Degel's expression was neutral as always, but his eyes shone and showed profound bliss Camus had never acknowledged. He felt thankful for the happiness he felt, and he would do anything in order it wouldn't leave him even only for a minute.

"You look happy," said Camus with slight smile.

Degel also replied him with a smile. He gazed at the floor for seconds, then turned to Camus again. "What do you want to tell me?" he asked.

"Well … let's say that my task is over, and I have to go home."

Degel nodded in understanding. Now his eyes got dimmer than before.

"Milo, Saga, and Shaka are here," said Camus.

"Milo is here? How come?" asked Degel in welcoming surprise.

"He did stupid thing as usual. Better we return to Sanctuary before they make a mess and shatter Bluegaard into pieces."

"You don't have to go to Sanctuary. Bluegaard is also counted as a sacred place containing powerful Earth's vigor—this is the place where Poseidon's soul is watched over by Prince Unity, Lady Seraphina's brother," said Degel. "There is a ley in the cave of jeweled glacier not too far from here. The cave is sealed to prevent common people penetrating it, but I'm sure you saints can break it easily."

"Is there any time machine to reach twentieth century?" asked Camus, and Degel shook his head in amuse. "Of course not. What you have to do is only wandering inside until you find an exit. When you have reached it, then _voila_ … you're in twentieth century."

Camus was stunned. "What? How come?"

Degel smiled. "Let's say I made a project after my visit in twentieth century. I was helped by the pope, Lady Sasha, even the other Gold Saints. They had disagreed at first, but I had explained the cave would be useful for anything. Besides, they were so excited when I told them about the amazing stuffs I've seen … so don't be surprised if suddenly you see Manigoldo or Regulus wandering around by riding … what's its name? Pixie?"

"Taxi," Camus couldn't help to laugh slightly.

"Right," Degel laughed as well.

"Wow … it's very practical."

"It's only one-way ley, though," said Degel. "It only exists here in eighteenth century. Once you arrive at the twentieth century, you can never return here by the cave."

"But what if your fellows want to visit my era? Does it mean they can never return?"

"That's why nobody dares to enter the ley until this time," Degel murmured. "They're afraid they will never come back. I've tried to tell them their reincarnations in twentieth century surely will help them with all their might, but they … umm …" he coughed a bit. "They don't really have a faith in their reincarnations …"

"Of course, what do you expect from the reincarnations who nearly killed each other only for the sake of choux?"

Degel laughed again, and Camus smiled.

"Well … I think it makes thing easier," said Camus then.

Degel grasped his shoulder and looked at him with deep thankfulness. "Thank you for everything," he said quietly. "You've done a lot for me …"

"It's nothing. You have to thank Saga—I wouldn't be able to do all these if he didn't send me here."

"Send my regards to your friends. And I hope this is not the last time we meet, Camus … Remember that I can appear at anytime by using the cave."

They smiled at each other, then Camus slowly stepped to Seraphina's door. "Would you permit me to bid her farewell?" he asked.

Degel nodded, and with that Camus entered her room and let the door open.

"Your Ladyship," said Camus as Seraphina turned her head on him. "I ... have to go home right now. Thank you for everything, I will never forget the kindness you gave me."

She gazed at him before leaving her bed and stepping towards him. "Where do you live?" she asked earnestly.

"In the land far away from here," Camus answered, mentioning the first sentence popping in his mind.

She still gazed on him, as if she tried to keep his visage by heart before he left.

"You've done a lot of things for me," Seraphina whispered. "I can't thank you enough. Please tell me the anything you want, I will do my best to grant it."

"I don't want anything, Lady Seraphina," Camus smiled slightly. "I only want you to be happy."

She smiled and nodded softly. "I will."

Camus paid out his hand as he gazed at her beautiful eyes.

"Will we meet again …?" she whispered.

Camus shook his head. "I don't think so …"

Seraphina nodded in both gloom and understanding. Afterwards she welcomed Camus hand, shook it warmly.

She a bit startled with the touch of his hand. Indeed she had felt his hands before, but at that time she hadn't been aware of the familiarity.

"Goodbye, Lady Seraphina," he said quietly.

She nodded once more. "Goodbye …"

He smiled. He turned around after releasing Seraphina's hand gently. When he faced Degel he clapped his shoulder before leaving and walking for home. At last.

Degel approached Seraphina when Camus had been out of sight. She gazed at him for a while, then softly reached his hand and attached her palm above his. She felt the kind coolness she knew, swirling and guarding the bliss in her heart.

"What?" asked Degel warmly.

Seraphina looked up, her grey eyes met his blue ones. She smiled and shook her head.

"No," she closed her eyes serenely. "I think I I've understood …"

-000-

-000-


	8. Eight

**Eight**

The quartet never stopped joking in cheer, but it was before they arrived at the cave of jeweled glacier.

Their jokes including Milo's question about the things Deathmask would say if they told him about their dangerous and thrilling journey to eighteenth century. "Deathmask would be so jealous he peels your scorpions," said Shaka calmly.

"No way!" said Milo in horror, but then he grinned in amuse. "The right sentence is, 'Deathmask would be so jealous he chops Shaka's Biki.'"

"If it happened I would give him four choices," said Shaka, lightly, but deadly as always. "'Which one do you prefer, Deathmask? Going to hell with cracked bones, slashed ears, cut fingers, _or_ chopped nose?'"

"He'll definitely prefer none of them," said Milo hurriedly as he hid behind Camus's back.

They were so excited when they reached the cave.

It was at glance looked the same with the other caves scattering in the chilly land. The difference was this one's surface glittered brilliantly when showered by the sunlight. Maybe that was why Degel called it the cave of jeweled glacier: it was made of glacier and sparkling like jewels.

Athena's seal was hung on its entrance, but Shaka could release it easily. It was the saints' ability which the specters and marina desired most.

"Come, Camus," said Shaka. "Please enter the cave first."

"No, I have to test whether this cave works," Milo argued. "I'll enter first."

"And how do we figure out this cave works or not?" said Shaka in irony. "Once you enter, there is no way back into this century."

"This is Degel's creation, see," Camus sighed. "Don't you believe in him?"

"Sorry, Camus, but you said this cave hasn't even been tested yet," said Saga. "Even though Degel made it, I'm not quite sure."

The Gemini gazed at the cave for a while. He took a deep breath, then almost took a step forward to tread on its mouth.

"Saga …," Milo tugged Saga's hand. "Together, ok?"

"Looks like an ordinary cave," murmured Saga, staring at the darkness in front of him.

Four of them finally unified their hands. After inhaling very deep breath, as if the cave had jaws which would chop their bodies into meatballs, they stepped forward.

But Camus barely took one step when his body suddenly thrown backwards and hit the ice-ground so hard he almost yelled.

"Camus!" the three approached him automatically and helped him to stand up.

"What happened?" asked Milo in aghast.

Camus stood up and clutched his painful arms which knocked first on the land. His cold expression a bit vanished as he frowned. "I don't know, I was about to step and suddenly I flew away …."

"But Milo, Shaka, and I are alright," said Saga worriedly.

"We'll try again," replied Camus.

"Are you sure?"

"What else can we do, lingering in this century until the judgment day?"

Now the quartet was far more anxious than before. Their hands were attached tightly to each other when they faced the cave's entrance again. Milo felt sweat began to emerge from his forehead—to think they were in below-something temperature.

"On three," said Camus, and the other nodded. "One … two … three!"

They stepped forward … and Camus once again was immediately thrown backwards in barely a second, now even harder than before. He felt as if he was pushed cruelly by someone who deeply loathed him.

The others ran at him in shock.

"Something's wrong here," said Saga harshly as he held Camus's arms.

"No," Shaka replied. "Something is right."

All were looking at him.

"What are you talking about, Shaka?" Milo snarled.

The Virgo took a deep breath.

His friends started to be frightened when they saw his expression; Shaka's feature went paler and paler between the graceful curtains of his blond hair, though his gesture was still composed and calm. His hair was blown by the wind in a very mystical way—if only Milo and the others had been in better situation they would have thought it to be wonderful, not terrifying.

"Shaka?"

"Camus cannot enter this cave nor return to twentieth century," said Shaka without any doubt, as if he told them the most profound truth of all. "Because he has changed the history too much."

"What are you talking about, Shaka?" Camus asked coldly. "I didn't penetrate the Holy War or something—"

"You reunited Degel with Lady Seraphina, Camus," said Shaka.

Now his voice was softer than before. Honestly it made the others more panic than ever.

"Now Lady Seraphina is slowly recovering from her illness because of Degel's treatment. If she recovers and stays alive, there is no reason for Unity to use her as Poseidon's vessel—Unity becomes a traitor and sacrifices Lady Seraphina because he is deeply mournful on her _death_, right? To make things simpler, if she is not dead, Unity will not fall into grief and did something which later on will kill Degel."

The silence was so dreadful and got their napes shivered.

Shaka then began to make an induction. "Degel dies because he has to block the wrathful Poseidon, who is awakened inside Lady Seraphina's vessel _after_ she dies of an illness which none of the healers can cure. But our dear Camus has changed that history. He reunited Degel and Lady Seraphina—it resulted in Degel's willing to heal her in order she will not die. But sadly, if she does not die, she will not be Poseidon's vessel. If she is not Poseidon's vessel, then Degel has no reason to fight against her. If Degel does not fight against her, let's say nothing will worth as the cause of his death. And if Degel does not die …"

Saga nodded in anguish once he understood all the theories. " … Degel will not reincarnate."

Silence again.

"Degel will not reincarnate, correct," murmured Shaka. "He will survive the Holy War because he does not have to fight against the wrathful Poseidon who is awakened in Lady Seraphina's vessel. Maybe he will keep fighting, but he will not meet a fatal end, because Unity will stand by his side and they will negotiate with Poseidon's soul in more diplomatic way. This is why Camus cannot enter this ley. To put it in syllogism: if Lady Seraphina is not dead, Degel will not reincarnate, and Camus will never exist. Technically, Camus cannot enter this ley because he will vanish soon, considering he will not exist in either eighteenth or twentieth century. This is the chaos that will occur if you dare to play with time."

…

Camus was stricken he couldn't reply.

_A single flap of a butterfly can cause a storm in certain place. No matter how small the difference you create, it would affect the whole universe, the whole space, the whole atoms exist in this age. And the most important, it will affect my future. And my future, Camus, is _you_. _

Camus didn't realize his knees had already dropped on the ground …

This was the thing called as forbidden fruit … He would soon vanish and couldn't exist in any century again if he let this happened …

Surely there was something that can be done to make things back into normal … and it was …

…

No … It couldn't be done. He had promised them … he wanted them to be happy. To hell with his own safety …

He looked up when sensing Milo was standing and started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" asked Camus as he slowly stood up. "Milo?"

"To the castle," Milo said briefly.

"For what?"

"Asking Degel to stop healing her."

Camus approached him and grabbed his arms. "Don't do that," he pleaded for the first time in his life.

"Why?" Milo's face was emotionless. "Do you think I'm still able to stay cool and cheerful and pretend this is only a bunch of candybar?"

"I've promised them," said Camus firmly. "I've said I will take all the risks. Even if I have to sacrifice my own life—"

"Enough with this sacrifice!" Milo snapped.

The wind was extremely colder when Milo's eyes transformed. No … he wasn't Camus's best friend anymore. He was shifting to his older self. An assassin.

"You've sacrificed yourself for Hyoga!" snapped Milo. "You've sacrificed yourself for Hades's battle, and now you'll sacrifice yourself for the sake of a woman you've hardly ever known! Enough with this sacrifice, Camus!"

"I've promised her I'll do anything for their happiness—"

"What is happiness anyway? Do you think she will be happy to see her lover's reincarnation vanished because of her sake? Do you think Degel will be happy?"

Camus stared at him impassively, and Milo harshly released his hands from Camus. "I'll go to the castle."

"You're heartless," said Camus in his coldest tone.

"I'm not heartless," Milo kept walking. "I'm just turning the matter into normal."

Camus soon approached him and pulled his hands again. He had promised … he had sworn he would do anything for Degel and Seraphina's happiness. And he meant it.

"You mustn't, Milo."

"Try me."

"Leave them alone, or I—"

"What?" Milo snapped again. "You dare to kill me or what?"

"If it's necessary, yes!" the coldest saint began to lose his guard.

"Enough," Saga's voice interrupted, made both Camus and Milo shifting their attention and looked at him. Saga's voice was neutral, no anger or emotion within. But it was firm enough to state that both of them had crossed the line.

"Milo," said Saga after minutes. "Go to the castle. Quickly."

Camus was like being slapped when he heard the command …

…

Milo, on the other hand, nodded and immediately ran to his destination.

"Milo—"

"You're not allowed," Saga soon prevented Camus to run after his best friend.

"You don't understand, Saga, he mustn't let Seraphina die—"

"She is destined to die anyway."

"She's not—"

"Wake up, Camus!" Saga snapped as he clutched Camus's shoulders and shook his body. "If you don't exist then what about Milo? What about your students? What about the people you've ever saved?"

Silence.

Milo slowly stopped wandering, letting his heart touched by Saga's words.

"For the first time in your life, Camus, just try to think about someone else's feeling, alright?" said Saga, now with much quieter tone.

Camus gazed at him.

He felt like his throat being strangled and his heart was cruelly seized from his chest as he saw Milo continued running further and further …

Now he entered the situation in which he couldn't decide what to do. Part of himself wanted to run after Milo and force him not to burst into the castle, but the other part said Milo and Saga were right. Things had to be turned into normal anyway … otherwise the whole things would become a big chaos he didn't even dare to imagine …

Why did everything turn this way …?

About thirty minutes before, he had been too relieved because he had thought he had done the right thing. But now …

"What should I do now?" his voice was so quiet when he finally, loathing himself, let Milo doing what he wanted to do.

It would be better if he shouted. For Shaka and Saga, the vulnerability in Camus's voice was worse than anything …

"Camus …," Saga held his shoulder. Camus felt the warmth he knew, the warmth coming from a big brother.

"There is nothing you can do," said Saga in a soft voice.

That was when Camus's hope completely flew away …

His promise, his words, his vow … all would be broken in an instance. He loathed himself more than he loathed any awful things he'd ever confronted in his life.

He closed his eyes and shook his head when Saga encouraged him to follow Milo visiting Bluegaard castle, not to block Milo's way, but to support him.

"Leave me alone here," his voice was barely a whisper.

Saga nodded in understanding. Then he started to follow Milo and walked through the cold wind that rent his skin. Shaka walked behind him.

_Destiny cannot be changed_ …, Shaka whispered in his heart. _You will meet nothing but regret when you try to play with it …_

-000-

-000-

They were standing in the Bluegaard castle library. Milo, Saga, Shaka.

And Degel.

"What do you want to tell me?" Degel asked after a long and forlorn silence.

From the emptiness in his blue eyes and the coldness in his voice it was clear that he had guessed what their arrival about.

"We have tried to enter the ley, but Camus was thrown aback when he was about to step in," said Milo impassively. "The ley is not welcoming him."

Degel gazed outside the window. Snow was falling gently, blended with thin drizzles.

"I won't tell you painstakingly because I don't want to reveal your future," said Milo. "I will only tell you one thing: if Lady Seraphina doesn't die, you will not reincarnate, and Camus will not exist."

Degel's expression was so empty that Milo almost thought his soul had left his vessel …

"Degel …," Shaka said in a very gentle and sincere tone which fit the thick stillness that conquered. "You must let her die …"

His words were followed by very long stillness. Nobody broke it, nobody even made any move, as though if they did it would shatter the castle and destroy it in an instance.

"Would you …," Degel finally let his voice out.

The three looked at him steadily.

"Would you leave me alone, please?"

Milo and the others stared at each other before they obeyed and nodded slightly.

They left the library with slow steps.

Degel remained there, watching the drizzle which delicately softened the snow into thaw …

-000-

-000-


	9. Nine

**Nine**

Winter would never cease in that frosty land. Its substances were always hued in white and light blue. The powder of snow quilted the tip of blue spruces and the top of the hills. The glaciers towered they almost reached the sky, and the clouds blended with mists and light purplish fogs, sometimes bathed the land with light rain. Rainbow was scarcely seen though.

But it didn't matter. The wintry Bluegaard had been the place Degel treasured most, his home, the place where he would get warmth despite of its freezing temperature.

It had been in the past, though …

Because right now Degel couldn't feel it … He couldn't feel the warmth he had used to feel, he couldn't feel the beauty he had used to see, he didn't hear the peaceful wind he had used to hear …

All was empty.

He entered the brilliant backyard in the castle and stood silently as he gazed on her.

Seraphina was touching the Cygnus statue, smiling as she patted its delicate surface. In the middle of the spruce-fir grove, powdery snow, and sparkling lanterns, she looked like a fairy of snow sent from the wonderful realm which didn't exist in this pitiable Earth.

It was barely an hour since he had thought he would have been happy with her … At that moment he had even forgot his own words to Camus—_a single flap of a butterfly can create a storm in certain place. No matter how small the difference you create, it would affect the whole universe, the whole space, the whole atoms exist in this age. And the most important, it will affect my future. And my future, Camus, is you._

Or maybe he'd remembered but he hadn't wanted to think about it. Perhaps he had drowned too deep in his feelings, being too mesmerized as well …

Degel closed his eyes for a while before continuing his gaze on the beautiful view in front of him. The moments he had spent with her felt so much like the sequence of dreams. The sweetest dreams he had never seen.

Now he was about to return to reality again …

He'd sworn he wouldn't let her die, but on the other hand he couldn't let Camus vanished either. He'd bestowed himself a very long time to decide, and he finally decided that Seraphina's death might really be a part of her destiny … The fact that they couldn't be together—at least in this life—could be a part of her fate as well.

The pain he had to endure was even beyond his wildest nightmare. But he and Camus had done the forbidden—changing histories—and now they suffered all the consequences.

Seraphina finally turned her head and gazed on him as well. Her eyes were so bright, showered by the lanterns' silver light.

"Degel," she smiled softly.

Degel didn't reply. He wandered, then sat on Seraphina's favorite bench. He kept leaning there and staring at nowhere, even when Seraphina took a place beside him and gazed on him steadily.

Couple minutes later, he slowly turned his head and looked at her.

It was a big mistake …. His heart was aching as though it was torn and rent.

"Seraphina—"

"I know," she put her fingers on his lips and looked into his eyes.

He gazed on her, didn't understand of what she said.

"I walked passing the library and heard your conversation. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I discovered the most important thing that brings the guests to you," she whispered. A pause for a while before she went on. "I had learnt about it earlier, though. When Camus and I shook hands … I began to realize that he is not merely your old friend. I immediately remembered that saints always reincarnate, and that is when I knew Camus is your reincarnation … All the things in him resemble you. Even his hands resemble you. It can't be any other …. At that time I hadn't known why he could be here in eighteenth century, but after I heard the conversation in the library … I began to understand."

In one long moment they were only looking into each other's eyes.

"I …," he whispered, trying to hush away the pain that grew within his heart. His voice broke when he went on. "I have to stop healing you."

"I know …" she slowly hugged him afterwards, her tears fell on his hair …

He closed his eyes … But no matter how hard he struggled to block his grief, it always turned to be futile … He had promised not to lose guard in front of her, but what was promise anyway …? He had promised he would not let her die also, but now he told her he had to stop healing her for good .

He stroked her hair as his warm tears circling down his cheeks.

"It's alright," she whispered. "I'd never been this happy in my whole life … I feel so thankful on your presence that I will do anything as long as you're here. But it's alright anyway if this has to end … Even though it is only for a while …," she wept earnestly, "I won't ever regret it …"

The long stillness followed, it felt eternal. Degel then attached his forehead on hers. As he cupped her cheek he tried to memorize every inch of her face. He couldn't imagine watching her dying and couldn't do anything to save her …

"Camus is …," he whispered. "Camus and his friends are …"

"Tell me …"

"In twentieth century they have suffered a lot …," he whispered again. "They told me Camus always sacrifices himself for anybody's sake. He hardly gets the happiness he needs … That's why …"

"I understand … I don't want him to get suffered either. After all, I have prepared myself to die since I endured this illness …"

In the midst of the silence Degel never turned his eyes away from her. And all of a sudden her beautiful feature reminded him to the lines he knew.

"There was a woman …," his voice broke in grief again.

He went silent for a while to control his voice, then continued the lines. "There was a woman who had a garden on her face …"

She smiled between her tears. Degel was quoting paraphrased poem from Thomas Campion.

_Even it was only for a while …, _she whispered in her heart_. My hopes have come true and I've had you here … It doesn't matter even though I'm dying … I promise we'll be together again someday, Degel …_

"There … roses and white lilies grow. A heav'nly paradise is that place, wherein all pleasant fruits do flow …"

He held her, her head was attached on his shoulder.

Surround them, snowflakes were swept gently by the wind. Drizzle was still falling. And the winters' tears dropped like the rain.

On a snowy evening …

-000-

-000-


	10. Ten

**Ten**

_**Bluegaard, two weeks later. Eighteenth century.**_

Lady Seraphina passed away in a bright, snowy day …

The funeral was held in her favorite backyard, attended by her beloved ones.

Meanwhile in front of the cave of jeweled glacier, Camus stood silently, watching the castle from afar.

He hadn't visited the castle again since his departure, and he didn't plan to visit it anyway. The guilt he felt forbade him to, keeping him to stay as far as possible from Degel.

He took a deep breath when Milo approached him and held his shoulder.

"You're alright?" the Scorpio asked quietly.

Camus gazed on him, then slowly lowered his body and sat on the downy ground.

"What do you think?" he murmured.

Milo took a place beside him.

For a moment none of them broke the stillness which had been the mark of the land. As usual, sunlight was hiding behind the fogs, the condition which made the skeptics thinking that God forsaken them by bestowing the everlasting coldness and lone.

"I've promised them …," said Camus impassively. His eyes were staring at the ground. "For their hopes and their dreams."

Milo looked at him solemnly.

"All is futile, isn't it?" Camus murmured.

"Of course not," said Milo in soft voice. He inhaled as he turned his head at the castle. "You've completed your promise. They're happy, aren't them …?" he looked at Camus again. "They have gained their hopes and dreams."

"Not eternally …"

"'Eternal' isn't measured by the length of space and time," said Milo. "It was you who taught me that."

Camus turned on his best friend. His eyes went dim when Milo wrapped his hand around his shoulder.

"If you still think they sacrificed themselves for your sake, do the best to make a return," said Milo. "By living your life and never deserting it."

Camus was so thankful on Milo's presence that he couldn't imagine what it would be if Milo wasn't here—surely he would face this lament all alone and nobody would encourage him the way he was. But even Milo's presence wasn't enough to hush away those awful guilt and shame he felt.

He remembered the spring bloomed on Seraphina's visage. Her sincerity, her endless love for Degel … He couldn't forget the bliss in Degel's eyes when he had reunited with her. He couldn't forget the moment when they held each other's hands, restoring every minutes of their lost time.

The more he thought about them, the more the guilt conquered … His throat felt bitter when he thought of Degel's future … He couldn't dare to imagine Degel's reaction once he discovered the woman he loved reawakened as Poseidon …

He hoped he could turn back the time. If only he knew this would end like this, he wouldn't ever dare to reunite Degel and Seraphina. But everything was a matter of choosing, wasn't it …? He was sent in eighteenth century, then chose to reunite them. No matter how heartrending the result was, it was his own choice he should've not regretted.

"Time to go?" Shaka and Saga had arrived. Saga had accompanied Shaka to buy some food—even Camus stopped blinking when Shaka said he was hungry …

Milo nodded and stood up, followed by Camus.

"I think now you'll be able to enter the cave," said Saga, didn't know whether he should be happy or sad. He approached Camus and looked at him in grief. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "If it wasn't because of me …"

"Hey, it's not your fault, see," Camus held his shoulder.

"Come," Shaka slowly wandered and stopped in front of the cave.

Camus inhaled a deep breath once again.

This was the end … Everything would turn into normal, and he wouldn't ever return to this century again.

He turned his head and gazed on the castle, trying to remember its shapes and keep it in his mind. Trying to select every laughter and joy within, and hushing all the sorrow and pain.

"Camus?" Milo called quietly.

Camus looked at him. He nodded, then faced the cave.

"On three?" asked Saga as four of them held each other's hands.

"One …," Shaka began to count.

"Two …," Milo continued.

"Thr—"

"Wait."

A voice interrupted them.

…

Camus and the others turned around.

Degel was standing about five feet away from them. He wore his usual winter jacket, his long hair was softly blown by the light wind. The downy flakes swirled smoothly in his ambience, bringing wonderful atmosphere in his presence.

The moments he wandered to Camus felt so long, as though time itself stopped flying to bestow grants on them.

When they had been close to each other, Degel gave a brotherly pat on Camus's back.

"Take care," Degel whispered.

That was the time when Camus couldn't hold back his grief …

The hot water that filled his eyes blurred his vision on Degel.

Would they meet again …? And if they would, would it happen to be a happy and cheerful time …?

"I'm sorry, Degel …," Camus closed his eyes to hold back those threatening liquids.

Degel closed his eyes as well, as his warm tears started to fall …

He didn't even know anymore what he cried for … Was he crying for Seraphina, Camus, or himself? He didn't even know …

"It's not your fault. I have to thank you," said Degel when he was able to control his voice. Then he smiled slightly after giving Camus a brief embrace. "We'll meet again," he said. "I promise … That's what this ley is for."

Camus nodded sincerely, though he kept restraining his emotion.

Degel gave the last clap on his back. He clapped Milo's shoulder as well, who looked at him in warmth. He nodded at Saga and Shaka before he slowly stepped backward.

"See you again," said Degel, smiled warmly.

Camus replied his smile.

He and the others once again held each other's hand and stepped into the cave.

This time, Camus wasn't thrown backwards.

He turned around again, gazed at Degel for the last moment, before he continued walking, and finally ran through the cave.

"Let's go home," he smiled as he glanced at his friends.

The others beamed, then immediately followed him.

_As long as we're breathing, hopes are sprinkling in everywhere …_

_I'm still breathing, Lady Seraphina …_, Camus whispered in his heart.

He was still breathing, and he was still hoping.

He was hoping that someday ... Lady Seraphina and Aquarius Degel would stay in the world overflowed with the sparkling stars … Laughing happily in this solitary yet homely land.

It was where the snowflakes are swept gently by the wind … Beautiful drizzle was everlastingly falling. And the winters' laughter filled the air without any pain.

It was on a snowy evening …

-000-

**End**

-000-


End file.
